


In the Optics of the Gladiator

by crimsonseastorm



Category: The Transformers (Comic), Transformers
Genre: Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, Gentle Sex, Gladiator Arena Sex, Kink Meme, M/M, Rare Pairing, Rough Sex, Smut, Sticky, Violence, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-19
Updated: 2011-03-18
Packaged: 2017-10-12 18:51:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/127956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonseastorm/pseuds/crimsonseastorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After claiming his wingmates, Megatron sets his sights on Thundercracker and will do whatever he can to convince him into the berth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Title:**  In the Optics of the Gladiator  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Warnings:** Sticky Smut, Violence, Bondage, Arena smexings, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Rough interfacing, Domination  
 **Verse:** IDW, Megatron Origins  
 **Pairing:** Megatron/Thundercracker (Little bit of Megs/Skywarp and Megs/Starscream)  
 **Disclaimer:** Transformers are Hasbro and Takara’s, Dialogue in the first section is taken from Megatron Origins #3  
 **Prompt:** http://community.livejournal.com/tfanonkink/3587.html?thread=3332355#t3332355"

A/N: hehe Seekers should be a kink on their own XD

*******************************************************

He’d seen the disc files of mechs that shredded one another apart in the arena. His brothers had fawned endlessly over them. They relished the bright splash of energon and pained death cries that could be wrung from a mech whose armor or appendages were sheared from their frame. There was no glamour in the bloodshed, no joy in the deaths of mechs who above all else were still Cybertronian and he just didn’t understand what they saw in watching the life fade from a frame so ruthlessly.

Wasn’t there enough pain and bloodshed in the mines without making a sport of it? He heard the most about the premier gladiator, the very one that was the object of his brothers’ attention and really…why wouldn’t he be? Strong, powerful and intelligent with smoldering dangerous optics; he was exactly what they wanted. The only reason that he even paid any attention to the Gladiator was because he sought to jumpstart a war from the arenas that would end the oppression of the Autobots.

Now, that was something he agreed with.

 _Finally_ , out of all the things that the arenas stood for, at least they were meant to transition into something more and perhaps that was his processors rationalizing his brothers’ love of them but the Autobots’ rein needed to end. There were mechs starving, exhausted, _and dying_ for the ones that sat in their glittering towers doing nothing but wasting hard-earned energon.

Seekers were rarely called for service in the mines, something he was thankful for; the few times they’d been forced to go had been quite enough for him. Flyers were dangerous creatures when driven underground and, while he wished it on no one, he had been relieved it wasn’t his trine that proved the point they had been trying to make all along; Seekers needed the sky. Their lives were all the harder for it, now ordered to do physical labor that their slender frames weren’t built to handle.

It had been a much needed reprieve when the telepath came for them. The mech that declared himself Soundwave promised them that Megatron would wage war, would win and his victories in the arena were proof enough of these boasts. He wasn’t so sure. There was a difference between raw strength and intelligence, between what was needed to tear through a mech’s armor to extinguish a spark and what was necessary to lead, to command respect of one’s followers.

Without meeting him personally, he couldn’t tell which sort of power that this Megatron possessed but surely to have the loyalty of such brutal mechs… he had to have some sort of commanding quality? Thundercracker failed to be surprised when his brothers jumped at the chance to take part and they had stopped in their excited celebrating to ask him if it was alright with him if they went. Trine decisions were supposed to be made together but really ye had never learned how to say no to his brothers.

He would do anything to make them happy, acquiesce to any wish they had because it was difficult enough to find happiness with war looming on the horizon and they didn’t need him ruining what little bit of joy they could find. They were excited for this future, whatever it would bring them, and he would deny them nothing that brought the bright glint in their optics, the upturned lips and the brush of glee across their bond.

That brought them to where they stood now, in front of the mech that even Thundercracker recognized as Megatron, the gladiator that took center stage in the arena vids. That he had just come from battle would be difficult to miss with an arm and optic missing. The Seeker didn’t catch the conversation between Soundwave and a mech he assumed was a med-tech but he did hear the laughing remark, “You should see the other guy.” He didn’t want to, he doubted the mech was even still online and didn’t doubt at all that Megatron had killed him, perhaps without a second thought.

His brothers fidgeted; delight, interest and a thousand other things swirled through their bond. This was their first glimpse of the mech up close and they were thrilled by what they saw, excited by the prospects that he offered. Soundwave kept them from moving closer and Thundercracker knew that if they had the chance they would be fawning over him, would throw themselves at Megatron’s pedes. They were already leaning forwards to catch the first words, to memorize the voice and its cadence.

“Hnnnn…What do _you_ want?”

“Your request—for a flight-capable combatant,” Soundwave intoned and at the corner of his vision he could see Starscream preen a little; Seekers were valuable soldiers if they were used correctly and it was no secret that their trine was the best of them. He and Thundercracker had been at the top of their respective classes in the Academy and Skywarp… well he was useful at least and could keep up; to them that was enough.

He saw the mech shift, nonchalant but with just a tinge of interest, “Hrm. You have one?”

“Negative. I present _three_ ,” the telepath stepped aside then and allowed Megatron full view. He didn’t miss the way those optics trailed over their frames, lingered on the sleek angles and flickered briefly over their wings. There was a slight recognition of their natural beauty and perhaps just a brief flash of desire; it was nothing new to any of them, they were used to being admired but he could tell that his brothers were standing a little straighter, a little more proud of their appearance—if possible—than usual. “Skywarp, Thundercracker and Starscream,” their trineleader flustered a moment, in the face of the violent mech that Thundercracker was sure he dreamt of.

“Mmm… uhh… Meg… Megatron! I pledge my allegiance undying!” the blue jet heard Skywarp snicker and he could have hid his face in his hands. Starscream had made himself as melodramatic as possible and it sounded ridiculous, a tad forced. There was no way that Megatron hadn’t seen right through it and he hoped the mech was the patient sort or at the very least didn’t find fault with eagerness.

“Heh… you can _fly_?” the gladiator seemed as amused by their trineleader as they were, a good thing because Starscream was… temperamental and the faster one got used to having him around the better. He didn’t particularly want his wingmate to end up offline either, he had been hard enough to convince into the trine bonding that Thundercracker would rather be short a member than ever try again; if Skywarp and he could ever get over the pain at losing a wingmate anyway.

Starscream adopted a rather arrogant stance, wings fluffed out proudly, “Beyond _three times_ the speed of sound… _all_ of us.” He couldn’t help but stand a little straighter, there were few Seekers that could hold to that boast and their trine was one of them. Megatron made a sound that Thundercracker could only take as appreciation and the way those optics lingered on them made him wonder if it was merely admiration for their talent or something more. Of course their trineleader wouldn’t stop at bragging, he had to attempt flattery, or really anything that might get him in the Gladiator’s berth, “Can I just say I am—we are honored by the opportunity to join you in the arena, to fight by…”

“The Arena? No, no. I have something much better for you and yours,” Megatron canted his head as Starscream slumped slightly, he had wanted this so badly, “Don’t look so disappointed. You will wear my badge and you _will_ kill for me. In this time of change… we must all be flexible hmm?” Thundercracker wondered whether it was just his processor being faulty or if those words really did hold some sort of double meaning but he could feel Starscream’s glee faintly across the trine-bond and that must mean that there was _something_ there.

He wanted nothing of _that_ hinted offer.

“Yes, my Lord,” the red seeker smirked and returned the gladiator’s appreciative look, obviously interested in the mech and a quick glance to the side revealed Skywarp fluffed up proudly as well, wings spread wide to reveal their beauty. He had expected that at least, had known the two of them worshipped Megatron and he was unsurprised to see them react this way. Another look at the powerful mech and he decided then and there…Thundercracker would leave Megatron for his trine.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Forgot to mention when TC calls Screamer and Warp 'his brothers' he means it in the comrade/brothers in arms sort of way not the actual relation sort of way. Muse bunny demanded to see some Megs/Skywarp so that's in this chapter so woo actual smut >D  
 **Chapter 2 Warnings:**  Sticky, Rough interfacing   
*************

“TC you seen Screamer?” his purple wingmate flopped in the seat across from him, sprawled out to glare at the ceiling, “I’m so fragging boooooored.”

“No,” their trineleader hadn’t been strutting around their quarters when Thundercracker woke from recharge and he hadn’t bothered trying to ascertain where he was.

“Well that’s just great,” Skywarp groaned, “Who am I supposed to bother if I can’t find him?”

“I couldn’t tell you Warp,” he sighed as he scanned the buzzing cafeteria, everyone going on about the upcoming battles, “Maybe you should try something new and not bother anyone?” 

“Pffffft, that’s boring…” the other Seeker fell silent for a moment and Thundercracker eyed him; Skywarp never thought about anything. Then his brother shot up, optics bright with excitement, “You think Megatron will send out on another awesome mission? Oooo! Maybe he’ll come with us this time.”

“I couldn’t say,” the blue jet didn’t share Skywarp’s enthusiasm for the particularly violent death of the Senator they’d just caused. He didn’t look forward to what undoubtedly would be an endless string of similar missions and he certainly didn’t want the powerful gladiator around to see his reservations in that area. 

His wingmate propped his elbows on the table and shook his head, “You’ll never get noticed by him if you’re all ‘don’t kill the innocents’ I mean… Isn’t he just awesome?” Thundercracker quirked an optic ridge, disinterested in hearing the purple jet ramble endlessly about Megatron but Skywarp wasn’t leaving him alone, “Come on TC! Did you look at him? Don’t you just want him to throw you down and frag you until you can’t walk?”

“Not particularly,” he was shot an incredulous look, “What?”

“I don’t get you… he’s strong and powerful and…and that paint! He’s gorgeous!” Skywarp drifted off into a dreamy look that had Thundercracker shaking his head in exasperation.

Starscream stalked into the room, scowled at several of the grounded mechs before joining them; he stopped short to give their wingmate an odd look, “What’s wrong with him?”

The blue Seeker shrugged as his trineleader nudged Skywarp to move out of the way and the purple jet squawked in surprise, “What happened to you Screamer?”

The Aerial Commander responded with a look of disdain at his hated nickname, “Nothing.”

Thundercracker took another look. There were dents and scratches all over Starscream’s usually pristine plating. That coupled with something that looked suspiciously like paint transfer the other had missed cleaning off and it was relatively clear just what it was that had caused the damage. However… he couldn’t quite decide which Decepticon had that shade of grey paint “Who was it?”

“Who was who?” his trineleader adopted a rather innocent look.

He pushed himself up from the table, “Nevermind.” He didn’t really care nor did he find that he wanted to know; it’d just turn into another errant conversion about why he didn’t want to prostrate himself at Megatron’s pedes. “I’ll be in our quarters if you need me,” he muttered.

Starscream gave him an amused look, “I doubt it.”

“What? Why?”

“No particular reason,” a sly smirk replaced the amusement and his wingmate waved his hand idly.

Thundercracker hesitated, “Right, well that’s where I’m heading.” He wasn’t about to try to piece together what Starscream could mean definitely not in the mood to play his trineleader’s games.

As he walked away he heard Skywarp say, “I’m confused… who was what now?” He didn’t hear Starscream’s answer but the purple jet’s excited, “Really!” carried rather well. Then there was the tell-tale ‘vop’ that sounded when the purple jet used his warping ability. Terrific, he’d probably go and bother someone or pull one of his ridiculous pranks then Thundercracker would have to go extract him from the brig because their trineleader was far too busy preening in the hopes that Megatron wanted him.

Frag.

Of course it had been Megatron!He scowled viciously at the grounded who had the audacity to touch him, to run one finger up his wing as he stalked past and the mech fled which still didn’t help his mood. It just had to be the Decepticon Leader, Starscream wouldn’t have settled for anyone else and certainly none of the rest of the pathetic grounded mechs that the fledgling army had to offer. 

Still… he didn’t envy his trineleader those repairs. Wings were dreadful to have fixed and the dents meant he’d need a re-calibration of his flight sensors. It was highly annoying and one of the reasons that Megatron and his rough interfacing didn’t interest Thundercracker. Obviously Starscream had deemed it worth it as hadn’t really seemed concerned by it and that disappointed the blue Seeker. He had hoped that once would be enough to put Megatron out of the Seeker’s processors but if he had enjoyed it enough to come waltzing out in public looking anything but perfect then he was going to be sorely disappointed. His wings twitched in irritation, things had been simpler when it was just the three of them.

He coded open the door to their quarters and stepped inside then promptly wished that he hadn’t. He was treated to the sight of a whimpering, trembling Skywarp on his knees being pounded roughly into. His hands were clenched against the berth as desperately thrust backwards against Megatron.

Terrific, just what Thundercracker wanted to see. How had Skywarp managed to find their Leader and convince him so quick enough that they had beat him to the trine’s quarters? He decided he didn’t want to know and really he didn’t even want to know or see that it had happened. He swallowed sharply, his spike pressing painfully against his panel and metal shrieked as dark hips slid against one another, as wings were strained and strong hands dented plating. 

Megatron growled fiercely as he bit into Skywarp’s shoulder, hard enough that Thundercracker could see energon glistening and when his wingmate overloaded with a shriek, he backpedaled, startled into motion and the realization that they could notice him standing there. He slipped back through the door and tried to convince himself that Megatron’s impassioned optics hadn’t glanced his way.   
****  
 **A/N:** (sorry this bit's shorter than the last, I usually just go until I have a good breaking point *shrugs*)


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N:**  Thundercracker/Skywarp in this bit, I couldn't resist xD Sorry it took so long <3  
 **Chapter 3 Warnings:** fairly normal 'facing with some fantasy sprinkled on top. Lolz Are Seekers a kink? They should be >D_

Thundercracker cursed his systems, they had reacted rather happily to seeing his wingmate fragged into the berth and had it been by Starscream he might have considered joining in but Megatron? No, definitely not. He didn’t know what it was about the gladiator perhaps it was that he was their Leader but he seemed almost untouchable and he was indecisive about whether it was even proper, whether he was a worthy occupant of Megatron’s berth.

His wingmate was highly attractive, Thundercracker would usually have been the one giving him that treatment though he wasn’t particularly surprised by the purple jet’s choice either; both of his brothers would spread their legs for Megatron whenever he wanted them to. He didn’t know where they managed to find the gall, the audacity to sleep with their Leader… he couldn’t do it, didn’t deserve it. 

He desperately tried to ignore the heat in his frame, ignore the fresh memories of Skywarp moaning and writhing.

It wasn’t working.

With Skywarp otherwise occupied and him not particularly wanting to seek out Starscream—who would probably just point him to Megatron anyway—he wasn’t exactly sure what to do about the charge in his frame. He was surprised that his trineleader would even want to share; he was usually rather possessive of his lovers and if Starscream thought he would be able to convince the blue Seeker into interfacing with their Leader he was mistaken. As much as he appreciated the strength Megatron had, he preferred his wings in their current condition not dented or leaking energon.

The washracks were empty when he stepped in and underneath the spray, was annoyed when it did nothing to solve his problem. He scowled and resigned himself to fighting his systems until he could find one of his wingmates, preferably in a Megatron free environment. Thundercracker had never bothered with anyone but his trine; they had always been enough for him and that was just another reason he wasn’t fond of the idea of opening himself to their Leader. 

Was the trine not enough for the other’s anymore? Did Starscream and Skywarp find him so boring in the berth that they had to search out someone else? He hoped not. That would leave him with a rather frustrating problem and no way to solve it, not to mention the feeling of failure at not being able to keep his wingmates together like he was supposed to do. 

“Well look at those pretty wings,” the door had slid open unnoticed as he mused to himself and he cursed inwardly, he could smell the high-grade on the Grounded’s breath and his wings twitched in warning, agitated that everyone but two he wanted seemed interested in having a romp in the berth with him today.

Before he could retort a rather distinct vop sounded and Skywarp stood in front of him, covered in scrapes and dents that he’d undoubtedly would want Thundercracker to fix. The other Seeker completely ignored the other mechs and surveyed him chipperly, “TC I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Come on!” He didn’t have time to protest before he was warped back into their, thankfully, empty quarters.

“Warp… what are you…?” A fierce kiss cut him off and then Skywarp pushed him back on the berth and eyed him thoughtfully, went as far as to stop in his advances to stare at him, “Warp?”

“This is for you,” his wingmate dug a cube and data-pad from his sub-space, carefully handed it over. Thundercracker gave Skywarp a puzzled look, he was acting… odd, well odd for him at any rate. “He wants you more than us,” the purple jet grinned, “And he’s gooooood.” 

It didn’t take a genius to get just  _who_  Skywarp was talking about and it had him gazing at the cube in shock when he recognized it as a very fine high-grade, something very rare in the mines and he could hardly imagine how difficult it must’ve been to find something like this or how expensive it might have been.The note on the data-pad bore Megatron’s seal; the newly created Decepticon insignia overlaid with the steady firm glyphs of the Gladiator’s name, and written in the contents of the pad were simply the numbers of an arena seat and match.

Skywarp tried to lean unnoticed over Thundercracker’s shoulder, and failed miserably, letting out a surprised squawk at the number, clearly recognizing it for what it was, “What?”

“That’s one of the boxes! Oooo, and it’s during his next match… it’s supposed to be like awesome or something,” he was given a sly grin and a wink, “But he’s  _always_  awesome.”

“I saw,” he muttered distractedly, frowned again at the pad; he had no excuse not to go as Megatron’s match directly preceded one of the only times Thundercracker was supposed to take part. The trine had debated extensively about the odd scheduling of his matches; his own planned bouts were few and far between. Now he had to assume that the Decepticon Leader had something to do with it and had clearly been planning this all along... but why? 

“No wonder you’re so worked up,” Skywarp’s hand brushed across the expanse of a wing, “He must really want you; he’s giving you all kinds of awesome free time.” The purple Seeker tilted his head and asked, for once serious, “Why won’t you let him frag you anyway? He likes Seekers… he won’t hurt you forever or anything and then he could kind of say he fragged a whole trine.” His wingmate gave him another grin, “I bet there aren’t many mechs that could say they caught the attention of  _three_  Seekers!”

A scowl crossed his faceplates as he listened to Skywarp babble and really he couldn’t refuse to answer something that was an honest question, certainly not when it was asked by a trinemate. “One, I dislike rough interfacing, which I’m certain you know or else you wouldn’t tease me endlessly about it,” Thundercracker gave the purple jet a dirty look which he, of course, ignored in favor of continuing to try to convince his blue wingmate that Megatron was the way to go.

“Yeah but he usually does just what I like! And you know that Screamer would only go back if he was fragged senseless the way he wanted to be! It’s the only reason he sticks with us anyway, we know how to make him feel good. I bet Megatron would be all gentle like you want…” Skywarp trailed off at his incredulous look, he highly doubted that the Decepticon Leader even knew the word ‘gentle’ and then his wingmate shrugged, “Well I do…”

“Did your processors fail?” He shook his head, Megatron couldn’t be gentle and that wasn’t just him thinking it, all the evidence he had pointed that direction. Part of it was sitting in front of him and was insistently stroking at his wings, causing the heat he had managed to forget to suddenly flare back to life, “Warp… what…”

“You’re all worked up and thinking about you sprawled out on your back under him has me all hot,” Skywarp pounced on him and kissed him furiously, hands roamed to brush and stroke over Thundercracker’s wings. 

He arched into the touch, sensors tired of being denied what they wanted and his hands moved to return the favor; they were swatted away. “Ah ah,” his wingmate purred, mouth devouring Thundercracker’s neck cabling before Skywarp paused and gave him a devilish grin, “I have an idea.”

For a moment they stared at one another, the sounds of their vents filling the silence and he wasn’t sure if he wanted the purple jet to continue. Not that he really had a choice, it was Skywarp and the word quiet wasn’t in his vocabulary, “Offline your optics.”

“Why?” 

His wingmate gave him an exasperated look, “You act like I’m going to hurt you or something. I’m just going to make you  _feel_  good.” He promptly moved to straddle Thundercracker and ran his hands up the dark blue chassis, teasing wires as he went. “Look, just do it okay? It’s not like you can’t just turn them back on or whatever.”

He sighed but did as he was asked. His optics flickered off as he wondered where Skywarp was going to go with this and was quickly drawn into the soft slow strokes of hands that knew what they were doing on his wings.

“Megatron is just as good at this…”

“Warp.”“Fine…” he decided to just give in and his panel opened with a soft click. Though Skywarp wasn’t exactly forcing him into it, his frame was on fire and he desperately wanted an interface to cool his aching frame; so he would play along. 

His optics offlined and he didn’t need them on to see the glee that was probably on his wingmate’s faceplates. One hand moved gently over his wings, tweaked and twisted the edges and successfully distracted him from his protests while the other coaxed his spike from its housing. Skywarp stroked it teasingly, fingers curled around it as it finally pressurized fully. 

“He finds all the best places… ailerons, shoulder vents, cockpit…” A glossa swirled and traced over each of the places, sending waves of pleasure through him and he didn’t yet let himself imagine that it was their Leader. Megatron certainly seemed to have a thing for Seekers; after taking so many flight-oriented lovers, he was sure to have extensive knowledge of their frames..

A moan escaped him and there was a sound of triumph from Skywarp before he was captured in kiss, their glossa entwining briefly. Then Skywarp pressed slowly down on him, his valve tightened around his spike and the other Seeker bent to purr in his ear, “I’m all stretched already cuz he’s huge.” Thundercracker groaned, lost to the sensations as his wingmate started moving. Skwyarp slowly shifted upwards and back until the feelings were building on top of one another, “I bet you’d like it… his big spike taking you nice… and… slow.” 

Thundercracker let himself fall into the thought, though this time it was difficult to lose himself completely because of the way Skywarp ground against him; their chassis’ scraped together as the other buried the blue jet’s spike again and again in his valve. He could feel his wingmate flexing around him, lubricant dripping onto his hips and thighs and knew he was close. 

He brushed the thought aside to focus on what it would be to have Megatron over him— _in him_ —and he could very nearly feel it; stretched wide as those smoldering optics watched him and strong hands stroked his wings.

He arched fiercely against Skywarp, his hands moved to grip purple hips and he started to thrust upwards firmly, powerfully. Just like his wingmate wanted, needed and Thundercracker was almost desperate for the release this interface offered. 

The purple Seeker overloaded with a cry, his valve clenched tightly around the blue jet’s length and then there was a breathy laugh in his audio, “Thought of him like I said didn’t you?” More perceptive than Skywarp usually was but that didn’t make him less right and no amount of denial would help his case or drive away the idea that maybe he should consider it. The only thing it didn’t erase was his feeling of unworthiness, the thought that maybe he didn’t actually deserve what Megatron offered. “He’s strong,” the voice continued, “Even if you don’t like it rough… you still like to be pinned and he could do it, you’ve seen him do it…” 

With those last words Thundercracker overloaded with a final thrust upwards and a deep groan then sank back into the berth. The weight on him was familiar something that he was thankful for and it wouldn’t be were it Megatron but neither could he be sure that someone else would be unwelcome; it would just be different. “I’ll think about it,” he muttered.

“Awesome,” Skywarp mumbled, rolled off Thundercracker to sprawl on the berth next to him as his systems slowly powered down into recharge, “Bet he wears you out.” He shook his head in disbelief, apparently him in a berth with Megatron was all his wingmate had on the processors but the promise was made and that meant he would think about it; he could deny his wingmates nothing.

_**A/N** : After this there will be more Megatron and less Seekers I promise! I just needed to get TC in the mind set for delicious Megs/TC smuttage >D_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Warnings** : Sadly none, there will be smut in the next bit though xD_

Whispers drifted up through the arena, they made his wings twitch uncomfortably because he knew exactly what they were talking about and there was nothing that he could do about it. No one but Megatron had ever sat in this box and even the mere thought of it intimidated him as he tried not to think about what it meant. His only source of distraction was that unfortunately, until the match started, the rumors were the other spectators only source of entertainment. 

He shifted again, tried not to show that the optics that glinted his way were unnerving; he hated being the center of attention much preferred to let his wingmates be the forefront and to melt into the background. Of course the match had been delayed; they were cleaning the last unfortunate fighter and his energon from the arena floor so of course the mechs below him were restless. He could vaguely hear bits and pieces of the speculation and casual comments about why he hadn’t at least gone to speak with Megatron.

A proper guest—he refused to consider himself anything more than that—would probably speak with the mech he was there for and maybe keep them company to sooth the jitters before their battle. Thundercracker distracted himself by imagining what Megatron’s response to  _that_  would be. He doubted the Decepticon Leader was nervous in the slightest, more like he already knew he was going to pulverize whoever it was into the ground and hopefully the mech would agree to join up; they ended up being less dead that way. 

“You know why he sent you up here don’t you?” he flinched and then, twisted to look at his trineleader who gave him an amused smirk, “At least Skywarp did  _something_  useful for once.”

Thundercracker shrugged, it was too soon to tell whether their… discussion, had had any merit and he turned back to eye the impatient crowd below them, “Good seats?”

“Hmph,” Starscream scoffed and then leisurely took the other seat. He draped a leg over the arm and tilted so he could look directly at the blue Seeker, “You really are dense.”

“Hardly,” his tone was sharp, biting and he knew it would only amuse his trineleader, “He wants to frag me, just because he can… so he can add me to his collection.”

“Hardly,” the white and red Seeker echoed, obviously pleased to know something that Thundercracker didn’t but he wasn’t in the mood for his wingmate’s games and shot him a scowl to tell him so. Another smirk and the other jet scanned the crowd; almost contemplative, like he was trying to decide what set of words would upset his wingmate least or, knowing the other Seeker, would get the most amusing reaction out of him. 

“Spit it out Starscream,” he grumbled, his wings twitched in irritation as the Air Commander switched from the crowd to staring at him and Thundercracker didn’t like that he seemed more contemplative than snarky; it meant he had a goal in mind, one that undoubtedly included the blue Seeker in a berth with Megatron.

“Seems to me that Megatron fancies you more than us and Skywarp agrees whatever that tells you,” He wondered what it cost his trineleader’s ego to admit that Thundercracker was more appealing to the Decepticon Leader, someone who Starscream had always idolized and whether he even would have if their third was present.

“That you can be as idiotic as him,” Thundercracker countered, agitated by the thought. He was no different from them frame-wise and surely Megatron didn’t want someone who didn’t entirely agree with the cause? Their Leader knew his reservations even if he hadn’t voiced them, the gladiator knew anything that might affect the outcome of his war and while it made sense to keep an optic on mechs that were hesistant, he thought that sharing a berth with a potential trader didn’t make much sense.

“He never gave us rare, expensive cubes of high grade,” Starscream offered pointedly, “He’s trying with you.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m not just a frame to him. It’s _Megatron_ ,” as far as Thundercracker could figure the gladiator didn’t do attachments, couldn’t be bothered with things such as mates and bonds.

“Perhaps not,” Starscream shrugged haphazardly and fell silent, scowled when a random mech gave a catcall their direction. Seekers didn’t have much patience for mechs without wings, unless they had something truly excellent to offer which he supposed whittled their choices down to, well, Megatron. The other Seeker smirked at him, “He changed your match, again.”

“What? Why?” 

“Because he’s Megatron,” his trineleader commented wryly.

Thundercracker shook his head, “If you’re suggesting…”

“I’m saying he’s trying mechs out until he finds one  _he_  enjoys,” Starscream inspected a null-ray, fingers running over it to search for even the slightest imperfection, “You interest him because you’re not like us.”

“You mean I fascinate him because I don’t spend my time in a berth fragging anything that moves,” he muttered bitterly, “Just because I’m a Seeker doesn’t mean…” He paused when Starscream sighed, “What?

“You think he cares who you frag and when?” the other Seeker scoffed, “I mean you’re intelligent, unlike Skywarp...”

“…and not arrogant, ambitious or likely to attempt to assassinate him,” Thundercracker finished.

Starscream tilted his head, “If you’ve already come to these conclusions why I am wasting my time with this conversation?”

“Because you’re bored and have nothing better to do… because you’re my trineleader and you think it’s your job… because it amuses you… take your pick,” his wings flicked in annoyance.

“I think he wanted to watch your match so he changed it to a time when he was likely to be out of the repair bay,” Starscream pushed up from his seat, “to see if you have anything more than your thoughtful nature to offer.”

“Why would he  _care_?” Apparently Thundercracker didn’t think anything like their Leader.

“Have you listened to me at all? He can have his pick of any mech here but he wants you for more of a longterm commitment.”

“Longterm…?” He gave Starscream a skeptical look, “you’ve gone insane.”

“Hmph,” the red and white Seeker scowled, “don’t believe me, by all means learn it the hard way.” With a shrug he turned to leave. 

“Where are you going?”

“I have a match to win,” he straightened and fluffed up his wings proudly, “Why do you think I said he was going to be in med-bay? Surely you don’t think any of these other useless groundeds could do it? The only one that could possibly beat him is a Seeker.”

“In other words you,” his trineleader’s wings fluffed up proudly and Thundercracker just shook his head, at least the other had determination and optimism; he was going to need it.

“When it’s your turn…,” Starscream didn’t bother looking back as he left, “don’t disappoint.”


	5. Chapter 5

**_A/N:_ ** _I always forget to mention this but I'd like to thank my beta for looking over this! She's been in Indonesia for the past month or so but still somehow found time to look over this for me *GLOMPS* (there are still minor things I'm told but she's on her way back to the states and I am impatient to post lol)  
 **Warnings:**  Megatron/Starscream in this bit, brief Megs/TC Rough/Violent Arena sticky smut, dub-con (maybe, if you squint, TC is convinced it's consensual though), mentions of Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Dominance _

The crowd roared as red and white energon covered wings slammed again into the arena floor, the owner shrieked with fury as Megatron followed the Seeker down and sharp, cruel fingers dug into sensitive neck cabling. Blue hands scrabbled over dark plating, attempting to gain leverage to throw the gladiator off of him but it was a failed endeavor, Megatron only digging deeper into a pale throat and the struggles ceased, Starscream thinking more of survival than of winning.

Thundercracker decided not to worry, their Leader was hardly going to kill off one of his prized soldiers and certainly not his Aerial Commander, undoubtedly instead they were going to get one of the sordid displays of Megatron claiming what he believed to be his. Starscream would probably consider himself lucky, would probably be proud and certainly be insufferable for the next set of days simply because he had lost, which in his trineleader’s twisted mind was probably winning because he got what he wanted, Megatron’s spike in his valve.

This was usually when Thundercracker, if he came at all to the arena, left. He wasn’t interested in the violent arena interfacing and while some, like Starscream, were more than willing to be pounded into the floor by their Leader, that didn’t hold true for them all. The blue Seeker would not be a party to rape or humiliation however undecepticon-ly that might be. Today however, fiery red optics flicked upwards to the box where he had shifted to stand and focused sharply on him. He froze, rooted to the spot by the sheer power those optics conveyed and they searched his for a brief moment. Whatever he was looking for Megatron must have found as he turned his attention to the writhing, hissing Seeker beneath him.

He couldn’t hear what Starscream was saying but he could imagine it well enough. Undoubtedly it was a mix of both pleas and insults; things like this happened often and it was an eerily vulgar déjà-vu. The crowd and his trineleader liked to pretend that none of these claimings were  _ever_  consensual but Thundercracker knew better when it came to his wingmate. He could see the glint in Starscream’s optics, the way his wings trembled with desire and he doubted Megatron could find a more willing participant, except maybe Skywarp but the purple Seeker didn’t have the same penchant for violence as their trineleader.

Something the red and white Seeker said had the gladiator growling and his fingers clenching tighter around Starscream’s neck as he roughly spread the Seeker’s legs wider. If one looked close they could tell that it was far more the doing of Thundercracker’s libertine trineleader than Megatron’s desire that they spread so far, knees bent slightly, hips arching almost imperceptibly and it only appeared like it had been a fight between them; the crowd didn’t notice or didn’t care, leering and calling out insults, demands that the foolish Seeker be put in his place under Megatron.

The gladiator bent low and though Thundercracker couldn’t hear what he snarled, Starscream’s panel clicked open as their Leader’s free hand closed tightly enough around a wing to cause dents and damage to the sensors there. Megatron’s panel opened moments later and the blue Seeker could already see the shine of lubricant staining the arena floor from his trineleader; he shook his head in disbelief.

How could Starscream want that? Why would someone  _choose_  to be painfully taken in front of thousands of mechs? It was insanity at its finest and there was no denying some attraction to the power that Megatron possessed but this… Thundercracker didn’t understand and he doubted that he ever would.Starscream was jerked down against Megatron as the powerful mech’s spike drove home; the red and white Seeker shrieked both with pain and pleasure. Their Leader didn’t pause, didn’t hesitate, and didn’t care whether he was hurting the other so long as he got his own release after all this was far more about showing the spectators his power over Starscream than any shared pleasure. 

Megatron claimed his soldiers, reminded them where their loyalties lied and he did it with rough, strong strokes that dragged wings painfully across the floor and caused paint to transfer. His trineleader lived up to his name, shrieking each time the gladiator slammed into him and the hands still clutching at the powerful mech’s shoulders were probably meant to pull closer now than push away.

Thundercracker dragged his optics away, frustrated by being forced to remain and disgusted by the vulgar display before him; interfacing was different in the low light of one’s quarters. Rough, passionate couplings done correctly caused pleasure more than pain and his wingmate’s had shown him that with their fierce almost desperate affirmations of the trinebond. Most Seekers were impatient in the berth, desperate to reach their climaxes and, done correctly, even he could find pleasure in it but Thundercracker preferred to be worshipped, his frame was beautiful and rare and it deserved more than dents and scrapes.  _He_  deserved more than the brutal treatment Starscream was getting now and required more than just some haphazard claiming on an arena floor to be loyal.

He couldn’t drown out the cries and grunts that rose over the crowd but his optics found Skywarp lurking in the seats and he almost wished he hadn’t. The other was obviously enjoying himself; focused with a slightly open mouth on the display before him with a hand pawing at his panel and Thundercracker could hardly believe he hadn’t opened it. The black Seeker’s optics were dazed, fixated on the way Megatron was pounding into Starscream and his attention was drawn there as they would be to some terrible accident. 

Megatron’s hips pistoned even as his optics met Thundercracker’s and he couldn’t tear them away, both transfixed by the sheer strength and uncertain of the promises they made. Time slowed to almost a stand-still, the jeers of the crowd and Starscream’s shrieks floated away until he was aware of nothing but passionate red optics, ones that very much conveyed that they wanted him. Abruptly Thundercracker stood, stumbled out into the hall; his energon was racing, his spark pulsed violently in his chassis and he fought to quell the desire that had bubbled up in him as he met those optics.

His hands clenched; it hadn’t been Starscream that Megatron had been driving into the floor, the Aerial Commander had been long forgotten in those processors, no it had been  _Thundercracker_  that the gladiator imagined was beneath him. He shook his head to clear the uneasiness. That was not what he wanted, this display had won their Leader no points with him and even as he moved through the corridor the collective roar of the crowd told him one or both had reached their climaxes and that his match was set to begin shortly. The blue Seeker prayed that they cleaned the floor so he wouldn’t be reminded of what had gone on before.The lower levels were mostly empty, only mechs with matches soon would be down here simply because they preferred to watch the spectacle above them and there were few that wanted to miss such things, especially when it was Megatron that stood proud and fierce at the heart of the arena. He paused by the makeshift schedule to confirm the change, stared for a moment in surprise when he realized that it was actually their Leader’s handwriting and that he hadn’t just fostered it off onto someone else. 

“Thundercracker.”

He turned to the regal, imposing form of his Leader, “Yes, My Lord?”

A quick movement had him flinching, his wings scraped against metal as he was pinned against the wall and he stiffened as strong hands slid over his frame possessively but he was quick to notice that it wasn’t the same kind of dangerous force that he’d seen in the arena. Still Thundercracker stood awkwardly, optics and face turned to the side so he didn’t have to see those smoldering optics or deal with the emotions they were beginning to create within him. The blue Seeker resigned himself to doing whatever Megatron wanted from him, it was better than whatever consequences would come from refusing. 

Then by some Primus sent miracle the gladiator stopped and confusion filled his spark. One strong hand came up to grip his jaw turned his face so he was forced to look into burning optics. Megatron stood and merely considered him a moment as Thundercracker wished more than ever that he had Soundwave’s telepathic ability, just to know what he was thinking so that he could be prepared for whatever came next. He certainly didn’t expect the—dare he say soft?—stroke of a hand down his cheek and the kiss that followed was hot and deep but fell squarely within Thundercracker’s definition of… gentle?

His processors were reeling, this was very much him being kissed by Megatron; his strength and will being swept out from under him, his world spinning with the force of the meaning—Mine— behind the deep kiss as strong as if the gladiator had actually said the word. Strangely he found himself giving into it, his legs spreading slightly for purchase and allowed the gladiator an opportunity to force his knee between Thundercracker’s then a hand pinned one wing against the wall keeping him there even as his mouth deepened the kiss and assaulted his sensors.

//Next combatants report to the arena.//

The moment was shattered; Megatron pulling away stroked a finger possessively down the blue Seeker’s cheek as Thundercracker tried to still the fans he hadn’t realized had clicked on. The hand moved to trail across a wing, sliding against sensors that he didn’t know he had before leaning in to murmur in his audio, “Go my dear Thundercracker. I look forwards to your triumph.” 

Then he was gone, leaving the Seeker flustered by his reaction and to contemplate the words. Megatron was obviously certain that Thundercracker could, and would, win, praise in its own way and it gave him a confidence that he rarely had as he entered the arena. His wings lifted proudly as he stood facing the foolish grounded that thought he could take down a Seeker and he let his optics drift upwards to where Megatron sat at rapt attention; interested in  _Thundercracker_  a thought that was swaying his processors and maybe it was still all with the goal to get him in the berth but he found himself caring less and less.The match began as it always did when a Seeker grappled with a groundling, with the other lunging for him in an attempt to keep him from the sky but it was never fast enough or it wouldn’t have been if hands he hadn’t expected grabbed his wings kept him firmly rooted to the ground. A device he couldn’t see was pressed between his wings and electricity coursed through his frame, his cabling seized and he threw his head back in a silent scream. It stopped as quickly as it had started and he heard the dim roar of protest from the crowd as he staggered forwards, unable to get his systems to properly respond; a large fist connected with his helm, driving him to the ground where, dazed and with a thousand warnings flashing through his processors, he hardly attempted to get up.

The mech had other plans, grabbing at a wing he dragged Thundercracker up and his claws tightened around his throat, some slicing through cabling causing energon to run across the blue Seeker’s chassis. There was still protesting in the crowd he noted dimly, there was only truly one rule to the arena, you could fight as dirty as you wanted but it had to be you. Adding anyone else into the mix was considered cheating and was not taken lightly by anyone, much less Megatron. 

His arm twitched, the transformation sequence for his weapon finally responding and he managed at least a semi steady shot at close range; he didn’t see where it hit, only knew that he had been dropped. Thundercracker collapsed back to the arena floor, could do nothing as his processors finally decided there had been too much stress on his frame and sent him into stasis.


	6. Chapter 6

He onlined sluggishly and his systems heartily protested the action, sending uncomfortable twinges of phantom pain through frame. Thundercracker debated for a moment, trying to decide whether he actually wanted to be awake or whether it would be easier just to slip back into recharge. Skywarp’s chipper, albeit concerned, face appeared above and robbed him of the choice as the other peered down at him; recharge wasn’t going to happen now.

“TC?” his wingmate’s voice reverberated painfully through his head and he groaned as the other Seeker spoke again, “Screamer! He’s awake!”

“Stop _yelling_ Skywarp,” he rasped, vocalizer crackling slightly and clearly it had been longer than the few hours he had expected it was, his chronometer still adjusting itself.

“Whoops, sorry,” the purple Seeker apologized sheepishly, only slightly quieter as Thundercracker stared at his surroundings and then gave Skywarp a puzzled look.

“Since when do we have berths?”

“Since our, Oh So Glorious Leader decided his more prized soldiers should have them,” Starscream preened as he came into view and stopped by the side of the one Thundercracker was currently laying on. His trineleader promptly scowled down at him, “You do realize the goal is to incapacitate your opponent, _without_ injury of your own?”

“Frag off Screamer, they cheated. That’s not his fault,” Skywarp grinned down at the blue Seeker, “Megatron was _so_ fragged off. I mean, seriously. Everyone knows how he feels about us,” his wings flicked proudly, the very reason they were so special, “And then, the whole sneaky extra mech in the arena thing is like, against regulations. He _hates_ that.”

Starscream scowled, “Most of us hold the same opinion. There are very few regulations and breaking one of them…”

“It’s a death sentence,” Skywarp nodded seriously, “I mean…”

Thundercracker tuned out the rest of their babbling in favor of running a scan on his systems, surprised to find that not only were the repairs top notch but also that they were actually not his trineleader’s work, not that he faulted Starscream his repairs, but they were soldiers and not trained beyond basic repairs. The arena medics then and that meant they had been even more serious than he expected and he was startled to realize how much care had been put into making them perfect. His chronometer chimed as it caught up to reality and he inhaled in shock, _three days_?

“Ummm… TC?” his optics flickered as Skywarp waved a hand in front of his face, “You feeling alright? You kind of spaced off…”

“I’m fine… feel like I’ve been stomped on,” he muttered, “but the repairs are good.”

Starscream harrumphed, “They had better be… slagging groundling medics.”

He shifted on the berth and pushed himself upwards, one of Starscream’s hands steadying him, “I don’t remember much of what happened.”

“Well you offlined that one mech, which really didn’t make the other one happy at all and then when he was going to kill you…” Skywarp grinned and made a firing motion that was very similar to Megatron firing his fusion cannon, “Whoom! Offline.”

Thundercracker stared stupidly until Starscream elaborated. “You’ll be pleased to note the weapon I created works excellently,” He smirked, “and that Megatron has good control over it. Apparently, he believes you more important than an idiotic groundling.”

“Flyers are important,” Skywarp offered helpfully.

“Yes… they are,” three sets of optics focused quickly on Megatron, two pairs surprised and the third annoyed. Still, his wingmates fluffed their wings proudly and he watched the gladiator eye them before his optics settled on Thundercracker. There was silence for a long moment and he swallowed, trying not to meet their Lord’s steady gaze.

“Can we _help_ you?” Starscream finally scowled, rescuing him and Thundercracker gave him a grateful look, “I believe this is a trine matter, in the _trine’s_ quarters.”

“Quarters graciously given can be taken away,” the gladiator warned sharply, giving Starscream a dark glance before returning his attention to the blue Seeker. “I merely wished to _congratulate_ Thundercracker on his victory,” Megatron canted his head towards said Seeker in acknowledgement and he gaped in shock. Had the gladiator watched the same fight that he’d been in? His wingmates exchanged glances over his head and Skywarp, not so subtly, nudged him to startle him from his staring.

“Thank you my Lord,” his wings fluttered in appreciation as he swallowed. Satisfied Megatron nodded once and left, leaving two amused Seekers and a confused one in his wake.

*********************  
“I’m tired of having this conversation,” he sighed at Skywarp and downed part of the energon cube he was holding.

“It’s been _orns_ ,” His wingmate protested immediately, clearly exasperated, “you’re just too stubborn.”

“And you’re too willing, your point?” Thundercracker scowled, he’d only thought he’d been tired of hearing about Megatron, now it was turning from frustration into aggravation and cube was set firmly, loudly on the table in front of him.

“Look,” Skywarp said seriously, and the blue Seeker eyed him, not expecting that tone from the purple, “what’s it going to hurt to do it once?”

“Warp…”

“No, lemme talk,” his wingmate interrupted, holding up a hand and he briefly wondered if Starscream had repainted himself just to pretend he was Skywarp to have this conversation because it wasn’t something that he would ever expect from the purple Seeker; he rarely stuck with something this long. “It’s not like he’s going to offline you right? I mean, one he saved you and two, neither me or Screamer is offline. So like, you go once and if it hurts… or he sucks or something,” the other gave him a skeptical look, clearly not believing such a thing was possible, “you don’t have to go back.”

“You’re assuming that once isn’t an automatic agreement for future encounters,” he countered pointedly and an optic ridge quirked upwards.

“You know what I think?” Skywarp jabbed a finger in his direction.

“No, nor do I particularly care,” Thundercracker sighed, leaning his helm on his head and the other Seeker scowled at him.

“I think you’re just refusing on principle now,” his wingmate mused thoughtfully, “just finding any excuse you can since you’ve been saying no this whole time.”

“Starscream is making you say all this isn’t he?”

“It makes sense though doesn’t it?” Skywarp grinned.

“Warp,” he found himself sighing again, which he was doing an awful lot lately; frag having a trine was annoying sometimes.

The purple Seeker grinned, “I love being right.”

Thundercracker just scowled.  
*****************************  
This was a bad idea, the worst he’d ever been goaded into, but he was tired of all the analyzing and tired of trying to figure out what every action, every word or glance sent his direction actually meant. His trine had convinced him but they wer simply the last straw, the last little push in this direction and really it was their Leader that had him standing here.

Megatron had kept doing things, little things that he didn’t expect and shouldn’t affect him the way they did; they made him uneasy but at the same time… he found himself surprising flattered. _He_ was desirable enough—for whatever reason, one he hadn’t quite figured out if there was more to it than just him being a Seeker— that the Decepticon Leader had gone out of his way in his attempts to get Thundercracker in the berth.

It was… strange.

He didn’t bother pretending it was anything more than lust, not when it was Megatron, but neither was he sure that he particularly cared. Some of that was the gladiator preying on the natural vanity that all Seekers had, something not even Thundercracker was completely immune to; there was no fighting programming, however much he hated it. Then there were the unlooked for instances of almost praise he’d received, something he desperately craved from their Leader simply because it helped to validate his choices.

He should probably be ashamed that it worked so easily, that he was playing directly into the hand that Megatron had played. He’d certainly put up more fight in resisting other mechs and in still hadn’t fallen into their snares; it was just the gladiator that had managed to catch him. He had hit all the right buttons, had said the right things at the right times and had staged it so that Thundercracker hadn’t known where the next would come from, had thrown him off-guard at every turn.

Briefly he wondered if Megatron had fragged his trine simply to get them to convince him into the berth. Had the gladiator thought that far ahead? Had his optics always been set on Thundercracker? He forced himself to not go there, to not linger on the thought that his wingmates had been used just for that and the knowledge that something about him was more interesting than the other two. Whatever the reason, Megatron wanted him and would clearly persevere until the blue Seeker was in his berth. The choice had been made for him, the only question was when and where and Thundercracker was tired of trying to decide. There was no better time than now.

It didn’t hurt that the gladiator was impressive, regal and dare he admit attractive? What with the strong frame and broad shoulders. It was something he’d never admit aloud otherwise Skywarp would badger him endlessly about it and he’d spend the rest of his life trying to keep his wingmate quiet. He eyed the door a moment longer, cast a glare at a passerby and hoped to Primus this wasn’t as stupid as he thought it was. Thundercracker straightened, wings flicking slightly, and finally knocked to be allowed entrance to Megatron’s private quarters. The door slid open without preamble and, choice made, the blue Seeker stepped through the door, steeling himself for what would come next.


	7. Chapter 7

“Thundercracker,” Megatron’s voice drifted through the quarters laid out before him, smooth and easy and he grimaced; the other _had_ known who it was. Had the gladiator realized how long he’d lingered in corridor trying to make up his mind? Had Megatron known he was there the entire time? Thundercracker doubted he would ever know for sure and wasn’t entirely sure that he wanted to know.

The blue Seeker slipped further into the room and stood awkwardly, facing where Megatron sat at a makeshift desk. A light burned on one corner, bathing the gladiator in a faint glow and casting part of his face in shadow. Still the red paint glittered from this angle, pristine and perfect and it told of the strength and power in the mech before him. Paint wasn’t uncommon in the sport that had become their proving grounds but one didn’t just decide to wear red; it was a right that was taken, claimed when one stood victorious and undefeated over his enemies in the arena. Only Megatron held that status and so, only Megatron wore red.

“My Lord,” he bowed slightly, wings twitching uncertainly as fiery optics turned towards him and he swallowed; he was sure sane mechs didn’t just show up at the gladiator’s door unannounced. How did Skywarp do this? Did he just not have the processing capacity to think to worry about it? Was he dense enough he actually just upped and asked the Lord of the Decepticons if he was up for an interface? Starscream… well, he probably just strutted in here; wings fluffed proudly and sprawled out on the berth, demanding to be fragged.

Megatron stood, elegant and graceful but with the hard edge to him that spoke of the true power and strength that ran in every line of that frame. Even a glance would tell anyone that he was truly dangerous and, if he chose to be, deadly. The blue Seeker had no doubt that he could switch in an instant from calm and collected to fierce and furious. His Leader tilted his head curiously as Thundercracker shifted from side to side and took several leisurely steps closer; close enough that the blue Seeker could see the faint scars that lingered on the proud frame.

“Ah, my dear Thundercracker,” clearly whatever those optics had been looking for in his, Megatron had found and the gladiator smiled slyly, a hand coming up to idly stroke down the Seeker’s cheek, “I had wondered how long you would deny me. Your trinemates were very willing.”

“I… I know my Lord,” he shifted slightly, not knowing what Megatron expected him to say but clearly that had sufficed. That hand moved, sliding effortlessly over the edge of his wing and it fluttered appreciatively under the touch, pressed into it unconsciously. Thundercracker on the other hand did his best not to pull away, intimidated by the sheer power and presence that was the other mech. He was reminded of those few moments before his match and wondered now if that was simply how this would go; if he would be ravished fast and furiously against the wall behind him.

Thundercracker was suddenly very aware of the injuries his wingmates had willingly sustained under Megatron’s hands… his strong, smooth, and steady hands that tweaked his wingtips almost playfully before sliding back along the broad expanse of his wing, lighting little used sensors on fire. That knowledge warred with Skywarp’s reassurances that their Leader knew what he was doing and the purple Seeker would certainly know; he interfaced enough, with anyone and everyone, that if he was so impressed with the other then Thundercracker was certainly in for an interesting night. He only hoped it would be one that he enjoyed.

“You think too much,” Megatron murmured, his hand lifting the blue Seeker’s chin upwards —when had he looked away?—so their optics met. The ones that met his burned with intelligence, with the strength and willpower that was already evident in the way he stood and moved, the way he spoke but just a glance into the smoldering optics could tell him just why Megatron could lead an army. Even his optics burned with the steadfast belief of his goals, with his vision for the future and it hit Thundercracker suddenly that it was the same belief that came across in his words, in the very speeches that were the reason the blue Seeker now wore his brand.

“Yes,” he agreed simply, no sense in denying what was obviously true and he belatedly realized that the comment had probably been off-handed, not requiring a response. Amusement flickered through the crimson optics across from his and he relaxed slightly, at least he hadn’t spoken out of turn.

“Always so eager to please,” the gladiator paused, “even though you doubt, you are more loyal than most of the mechs here… it is... intriguing.” Thundercracker gaped, _he_ intrigued _Megatron_? Why would the gladiator even give a soldier like him a second thought? Beyond the fact that he was a flyer, in the grand scheme of things, surely there were more important mechs to consider the motives of or even notice at all? Starscream was the first to come to mind or Soundwave, simply because they were both closer to the top than him, not to mention his trineleader was far more vocal than the rest of the army combined.

Megatron’s optics glittered knowingly, as though he could read the thoughts flitting through Thundercracker’s processors and he wondered if the other didn’t already know he was here first for his trine, second because of those glorious speeches. The blue Seeker couldn’t form a proper answer, falling back instead on turning the conversation elsewhere, “What do you want from me my Lord?”

“I should think, my dear Thundercracker, that I have made that rather clear,” the corners of Megatron’s lips quirked upwards in amusement and his optics still hinted of the same as the hand that reached up to stroke his cheek was suddenly much firmer than it had been before. The other mech clearly pleased when he didn’t pull away and instead tilted his face into the touch, attempted to convey his willingness even though he was sure the gladiator could sense his uncertainty.

“I… yes Lord Megatron,” his optics flicked to the side and then he found himself being kissed, completely convinced that he’d never been kissed like this by anyone but Megatron. Fierce and passionate, his processors went nearly blank as an arm snaked around his waist to pull him closer, the gladiator’s other hand shifted to the back of his helm to press him deeper into the kiss and he melted into it, his fans humming to life.

His lips parted to let the other’s glossa slide in with his, lips bruising slightly under the pressure and all he could think was that he never wanted it to end. He was caught up in the moist lips moving easily against his, the glossa exploring his mouth and he let out a soft moan of appreciation. When Megatron pulled away a moment later the Seeker’s plating was warm and he was silently guided to the berth.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: In the Optics of the Gladiator  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Verse: IDW, Megatron Origins  
> Pairing:Megatron/Thundercracker (Little bit of Megs/Skywarp and Megs/Starscream)  
> Disclaimer:Transformers are Hasbro and Takara’s, Dialogue in the first section is taken from Megatron Origins #3
> 
> A/N: This is it people! Last chapter! Smut, smut, smut in this bit. Light bondage... that's about all I've got to warn for. Prompt was for gentle, so that's what we got. :D

He crawled onto it hesitantly; highly aware of the optics that watched him and he shifted awkwardly as he glanced back to look for some sort of direction, not entirely sure how he was wanted. Megatron said nothing, made no movements one way or another. It was his choice then? Thundercracker debated even as he lay out on his back, his wings rubbing against the smooth metal of the berth and turned his optics back on Megatron.

It was now the gladiator moved and joined him with the same easy grace that the Seeker was accustomed to seeing. He hadn’t even hesitated, had simply accepted Thundercracker’s decision and went with it. Where did his Leader get his confidence? The absolute certainty that made the blue Seeker’s spark flutter as he met those fiery optics?

Hands silently nudged his legs and when they fell open Megatron knelt between them, hovered over him. Those deep crimson optics scanned his face and trailed appreciatively down his frame. Thundercracker wondered what the gladiator saw as he gazed down. Did he see the stiff stillness of the Seeker and the nervous way his wings trembled? Or did he simply see a beautiful frame being offered to him for the taking? He didn’t know, didn’t even have a guess as Megatron’s expression was unreadable and therefore unhelpful.

The gladiator shifted above him, one hand coming up to trace lightly down Thundercracker’s cheek and his optics flickered in surprise at the soft touch before he was being kissed again. Deep and passionate, Megatron loomed above him, pinning him with his weight. He was pressed fiercely against the berth as his Leader stole the air in his frame away with the powerful kiss. It was so easy to get swept up in the overwhelming sensation of being completely helpless, completely at the other’s mercy and the blue Seeker moaned softly as a glossa slid against his lips.

There was no escaping his partner, not now; whatever Megatron chose to do Thundercracker was going to be part of. Even if the gladiator would allow it, he was hardly going to attempt to leave, to deny his Leader after he’d offered himself and with that… any choice he might have had was gone; it had been made the moment he knocked on the door and sought entry. He wasn’t entirely sure that he minded and he forced himself to relax slightly, reminded himself that he _did_ want this, had really since that first kiss outside the arena. The blue Seeker had wanted to experience more, to know what it felt like to be so perfectly claimed by the gladiator and really who wouldn’t? Megatron was already a legend, his name would be spoken long after his frame had grayed and here, in this moment, he wanted _Thundercracker_.

His racing processors calmed enough to allow his helm to tip upwards into the kiss and he received a rumble of satisfaction as this allowed Megatron better access to his mouth. A strong hand cupped his cheek, making Thundercracker aware again of just what the mech above him could do if he chose and he forced it aside. Skywarp was right —Primus forbid he ever admit that aloud around his wingmate— even if it hurt, he wasn’t going to be offlined and he needed to just relax, deal with it as it came.

The lips on his continued, softening slightly and really there was none of the true ferocity that the blue Seeker had expected, simply lips on his, moist and insistent. He had expected denta and sharp pain, definitely not the almost tenderness he was getting. Thundercracker cautiously reciprocated and shifted his head to a more comfortable angle. When he pressed his lips upwards properly he earned another one of those delightful encouraging rumbles and he was immediately dead set on causing more. His glossa began to willingly move against the other’s and he was vaguely aware of the hand leaving his cheek, sliding over and down one wing. It threatened to stiffen and tense against the smooth palm against it. Megatron distracted him by capturing his bottom lip between his and sucking lightly.

Thundercracker moaned again, his wings twitching upwards and Megatron pulled away, his lips sticking briefly against his before the powerful mech was leaning in to slide a glossa over his neck cabling, moving down a dark blue shoulder. The handsome mouth slid over the edge of said wing even as his hand continued to stroke over it, fingers running over the sensors almost playfully as he sucked on the edge. The in question wing fluttered, trembling for a far better reason than uncertainty and the hint of fear he’d had before, now it was starting to just feel good, sending a pleasant tingle through his systems, far more relaxed than he had been. The gladiator shifted, changed wings and gave the other much the same treatment, glossa sliding more pointedly over the highly sensitive areas he’d barely touched on the other.

Thundercracker groaned—clearly Megatron knew what he was doing when it came to Seekers— his sensor net immersed in the sensation and his fingers curled into the berth to keep from grabbing onto the gladiator, uncertain if his touch was welcome or if he should wait for permission. Megatron rumbled in response and pulled away, simply began slowly running his hands over the blue Seeker’s frame as though he were worshipping the sleek build. Thundercracker’s programming told him this was the way it should be, that he was beautiful and special and _deserved_ this, feelings he had done his best to hide for fear he would suddenly find himself acting like Starscream. Still his processors screamed at him that this was Megatron and that it could turn into pain at any moment, however much he wanted to just give in.

Lips trailed up his cockpit suddenly and his frame arched into the touch, unconsciously seeking more of the wonderful sensation. There was an amused rumble at his moan of surprise as the mouth continued upwards to latch onto the cabling in his neck. He was quickly finding it difficult to think, to predict what might happen next and he knew his wingmate would tell him to stop worrying but it was Megatron, surely… it couldn’t all feel good. His frame stiffened slightly and began to move only insofar as he couldn’t control. When Megatron pulled back again, he stared down at Thundercracker with an unreadable look and the blue Seeker opened his mouth instantly to apologize but for what he didn’t know.

Really, he didn’t even know where to start, for not properly enjoying himself? For being very willing but highly uncertain? For not reciprocating like some very small, hidden part of his processor wanted to do? For undoing the work it had taken Megatron to get him to relax to begin with? In the end his mouth closed silently, his fingers tightened into the berth and seriously, hadn’t he already gotten past this? It was why he was here in the first place and he had been enjoying himself only moments ago. Regardless, staring up at Megatron looming over him wasn’t helping, not with those fiery optics boring into him and clearly trying to decide what the problem was.

He shifted uncomfortably and he could feel his wings tremble under the powerful hands, something Megatron couldn’t have _not_ noticed. As the silence stretched he realized that the gladiator’s fans had clicked on at some point and he hadn’t even known. He was going about this whole encounter wrong. If it were anyone else it wouldn’t be about his pleasure it would be about his partner’s and he hadn’t thought beyond his own fears to consider what Megatron might want. Images of his wingmates dents were proffered helpfully by his processors but he knew they both delighted in the violence of the arena and it was just as possible that had _wanted_ them.

“My Lord…” it was just short of stammering and he _never_ did that, neither did he particularly know what he was going to say. Had he just been about to ask what the gladiator wanted? That… was so many forms of stupid, like Megatron was going to just tell him what he wanted and the blue Seeker swallowed uncertainly. Lips found his, steady and firm but still asking, still allowing him a choice he hadn’t thought he had as they kept him from continuing whatever he was going to say. Hands ghosted over his shoulder vents, fingers dipping and teasing lightly until Thundercracker groaned again, then those wonderful hands promptly disappeared to run down his sides.

“My Lord…” he tried again.

“You think too much,” nearly inaudible words were murmured in his audio and even though Megatron’s mouth was there, the blue Seeker was scarcely sure he’d actually heard the words and not just made them up; they were more true now than they had been before. He couldn’t even enjoy what should be a simple interface without over analyzing but he had seen what the gladiator could do with the powerful hands now nudging his legs even further apart and… usually it didn’t include massaging his thighs like that.

Thundercracker moaned as Megatron knelt between his legs, optics curious as his glossa slipped across his cockpit again and then down further. A kiss was pressed against his panel and his optics flared in shock as he stared down into amused ones and watched as Megatron very firmly did it again. It was very clear what the gladiator wanted as his glossa slid along the seams of Thundercracker’s panel and his hips rose slightly, desperate for more of the contact. His partner rumbled slightly, before Megatron purred in that smooth, luxurious voice of his, “Open.”

He couldn’t have denied _anything_ said to him in that tone, that voice. It was glorious, perfect and Thundercracker doubted there was anyone else in the universe that sounded like _that_. His panel clicked open, sliding aside and cool air hit his moist valve before his hips jerked firmly upwards against the glossa that invaded the tight passage. Thundercracker moaned as Megatron’s hands very firmly came up to hold the blue Seeker’s hips down and the gladiator continued his assault. His thought processes were quickly deteriorating into nothing but pleasure and his knees bend slightly, pedes scrabbling for purchase so he can thrust upwards against the glossa sliding across his outer node.

The movement of his hips proved futile. Megatron’s hands were too strong and it was far too easy for him to hold Thundercracker’s hips down. The lithe glossa dipped into his valve and activated the sensors along the walls. A deep rumble of approval escaped the gladiator as lubricant formed and he sucked lightly on the outside node of the blue Seeker’s valve.

“My… my Lord…” Thundercracker wouldn’t allow himself to beg, not yet but Primus Megatron knew what he was doing. That glossa slipped easily along the walls of his valve, thrusting repeatedly in and out only to pull back to run along the slit. The blue Seeker’s vents rasped in response, his frame hot and he found himself suddenly desperate for more.

Megatron hummed, sending vibrations running along his sensors before he pulled away and smirked upwards at the blue Seeker as he licked his lips sensually. “Yes, Thundercracker?”

His frame and wings trembled with want, desire for the powerful mech to take him, to claim him, to make the blue Seeker his but Thundercracker couldn’t bring himself to speak and ask for what he wanted. This was Megatron; he would take whatever the powerful gladiator wanted to give and had no right to demand anything from him. When there was no response forthcoming Megatron trailed his glossa up Thundercracker’s thigh, hands gliding easily over his hips and legs which pressed willingly upwards into the teasing touch.

Each stroke of the gladiator’s hand was firm and gentle, clearly very much in control and aware of his own strength; Thundercracker found his original worries made his spark clench in excitement. Megatron could tear a mech to shreds with his hands if he wanted but here and now he was choosing instead to cause only pleasure, to send the blue Seeker spiraling into bliss. The gladiator’s slick glossa returned to his valve and he arched freely against it, his hands curling into the berth.

“P-Please… Lord…” his voice trailed off in another breathy moan, hips jerking against the invading glossa and the reaction earned him another smirk; Megatron clearly pleased though Thundercracker couldn’t fathom why he was taking his time like this nor could he spare the processing power to linger long on it. He was hardly going to complain about the confident slide of hands over his frame, sensors flaring in response and sending bright stabs of _want_ through his systems.

“M-Megatron…” he groaned, helm tipping back and the gladiator shifted upwards, fingers teasing the entrance to the blue Seeker’s valve as his lips pressed firmly against Thundercracker’s. Their glossa entwined as his hips arched upwards into the touch and two thick fingers pressed upwards into him. He spread his legs wider, tipping his helm upwards and his hands came up unconsciously to clutch at Megatron’s shoulders.

The gladiator thrust his fingers deeper, sliding against sensors that his glossa hadn’t been able to reach and scissoring them to stretch the Seeker. Those wonderful fingers brushed against the topmost sensor cluster and he let out a breathy moan, hips jerking upwards. Megatron’s lips moved to Thundercracker’s neck cabling again, sucking and nipping more intently this time. Clearly the gladiator was pleased with his reaction, the frame pressed against him was hot and the hand on his wing was desperate.

His vents heaved as a third finger was added to his valve, he arched helplessly against them and his hands dug into the powerful shoulders, scraping grey paint from the gladiator’s frame. “Please… Megatron,” he gasped, his hesitancy forgotten in the wake of his pleasure and because he’d yet to be berated, which was highly reassuring.

There was the faint hiss-click of a panel opening and the fingers disappeared from his valve. Thundercracker gave a faint sound of protest and his hands slipped from Megatron’s shoulders, intent on finding the gladiator’s spike but a strong hand caught them. He found them pinned above his head, a silky fabric loosely tied around his wrists and Thundercracker, should he feel the need, could easily free himself.

It was highly arousing to not be allowed to touch and his frame arched desperately against Megatron’s, demanding more contact, more pleasure. The gladiator answered by positioning his spike to the entrance of the blue Seeker’s valve, soft lips finding his again as he slowly pressed inside and Thundercracker _groaned_. Megatron was impressive, his spike larger than the three fingers he’d stretched the Seeker with and his partner was careful now as he slowly slid in to his slick valve.

His arousal flared at the deep, rumbling groan in his audio and Primus he would do anything the gladiator wanted just to hear it again. Thundercracker arched his hips, trying to get Megatron to move faster and to pull his spike deeper. Clearly his partner had more control than he did and continued to press slowly, vents heaving against the blue Seeker’s neck.

A final rock of his hips and Megatron was fully seated; Thundercracker felt like he was being split open and it was a wonderful, terrific feeling. He arched his hips pleadingly and finally the gladiator moved, pulling out to the tip of his spike and slowly thrusting back in.

“Nngh-” his head tipped back further, hands curling into the material around his wrists and Megatron started steadily moving, spike sliding easily in and out and in again. The large spike hit every one of his sensors and the gladiator drove against the topmost sensor cluster again and again, sending white hot bursts of pleasure shooting through him.

His hips moved to meet Megatron’s, the powerful mech’s hips scraping against his thighs and Thundercracker couldn’t bring himself to care that the paint there was probably gone or that later he would have to return to his quarters all scraped up; none of that mattered here and now. All that he focused on with the feel of the gladiator’s spike sliding into him and the sound of his the ragged breath in his audio. The blue Seeker quickly found himself dangerously close to overload and if Megatron’s grunts and erratic thrusting was anything to go by, so was he.

“Lord— ”

“Overload. Now,” his leader’s slick smooth voice groaned in his audio and who was Thundercracker to deny him, especially when he was ordered like _that_? He arched against Megatron with a cry, wings tensing under the gladiator’s hands and his valve clamping down fiercely against the spike that drove into him several more times before the gladiator joined him. Growling his overload, his partner drove deep, burning hot fluid spurting against the top of his valve and hitting just right to prolong Thundercracker’s.

He collapsed finally against the berth, the hot weight of his leader against him and they lay there for several moments, the tinging sound of metal cooling and their heaving vents the only sounds in the room. Thundercracker cautiously unwound his wrists from the material bringing his arms back down to the berth. It was then Megatron shifted, pulling his spike from the Seeker with a grunt and instead settling to the berth just beside him. Thundercracker glanced at him sidelong with a curious look.

He was still running hot; Seekers rarely stopped at just one overload and now that they were at it he was more than willing to go another round. He had to assume Megatron had the stamina; more than once Skywarp or Starscream had returned completely exhausted and very much satiated. He wondered if his leader had taken his movement as an indication to quit or simply wasn’t in the mood tonight.

“You are thinking again,” Megatron observed in amusement. Thundercracker opened his mouth to say something but he could hardly refute it and there was little point in agreeing; instead his optics flicked away and caught sight of the gladiator’s still mostly extended spike, which answered his musings about the other’s stamina. Thundercracker found himself kneeling between his partner’s legs. Perhaps it was too bold a move— it was certainly something he wouldn’t usually have done without prompting— but Megatron had made no indication he was displeased and Thundercracker wasn’t bold enough to ask.

Megatron’s optics met his, the desire in the crimson optics still evident even if the gladiator made no move one way or another and the blue Seeker found himself thankful for it; he was still rather nervous around his leader and was encouraged when the other shifted to make himself more comfortable. Thundercracker’s helm dipped, hands tentatively running along Megatron’s thighs and it was awe-inspiring to feel the strength there as his glossa gently ran along the underside of the other’s spike —he knew well enough to leave the gladiator’s valve alone— and didn’t have neither the talent nor experience that Starscream and Skywarp had at this but neither had they ever complained.

Encouraged by the deep rumbling groan he ran his glossa along the tip of the gladiator’s spike just once before he was taking it into his mouth, his jaw relaxing to take as much of the impressive length as he could. Megatron growled appreciatively at the warm, wet heat and Thundercracker sucked hard, running his glossa along the bottom as powerful hips rocked upwards. His hands slid along the gladiator’s thighs and hips, teasing at wires and cabling in the joints as his bobbed his head steadily.

His optics flicked up to Megatron whose head was tipped back, lips parted and Thundercracker pulled back enough to suck hard on the head of the other mech’s spike; the gladiator growled and his hips jerked upwards, lust filled optics meeting Thundercracker’s.

“Come here,” he ordered, half-purred as he pulled the blue Seeker upwards and it was simple enough to figure out what he wanted. Thundercracker positioned himself readily over Megatron’s spike and slowly started to impale himself. The gladiator had other ideas and dragged the Seeker down into a rough, hasty kiss as he thrust upwards into the already well-slicked valve with a rumble.

Thundercracker moaned at the motion and rolled his hips, feeling the ridges of the other mech’s spike slide along the sensors. He kept the pace steady as strong hands slid over his wings and along the edges, tweaking the tips when they came to them. His pace quickened, pleasure fluttering down through them and straight to his valve. Lubricant dripped from him, down onto Megatron’s hips and his vents heaved as the gladiator’s hands moved to his hips, fingers digging into the metal.

He didn’t care that paint was scrapped off as Megatron controlled the pace, thrusting hard and firm as quickly as he could manage. His spike thrust deep, pressing against the upmost node with each in and out movement and Thundercracker could do nothing more than meet his pace. Their hips and frames moving together, the room filled with the smell of lubricant and the slick noise of the gladiator driving into his valve, stretching him exquisitely each time.

It didn’t take much more for him to go over; he cried out, valve clenching around the spike deeply seated in him and Megatron rocked slowly to extend his overload before he found himself once more staring upwards at the gladiator. Thundercracker had hardly come down before Megatron started again; his spike sliding slowly, purposefully into the blue Seeker and he couldn’t bring himself to care that the other was clearly savoring his victory on getting him into the berth.

As far as he was concerned, as long as each time was like this, Megatron could have him all he wanted and his hands tentatively raised to the gladiator’s shoulders, dragging his hands down them as he wrapped his legs around the dark grey hips against his. His partner took it as encouragement moved harder and faster against him, burying his spike again and again into Thundercracker’s valve. Megatron’s vents were hot against the blue Seeker’s plating, rough growls and deep rumbles from the gladiator were muffled against his shoulder.

Thundercracker was already on edge again, his hips rocked into grey ones and he could do little more than chase one last overload. Their interfacing while it had turned faster, more frenzied it wasn’t rough or as painful as he had originally expected; Skywarp was right… Megatron knew what he was doing. The gladiator’s thrusting grew erratic, his spike hitting almost every sensor as he thrust, powerful hips grinding against his and the hand that dragged purposefully down the hinges of his wings sent him over.

He arched off the berth, mouth falling open in a near silent cry and Megatron groaned, hips jerking twice more before he stiffened above Thundercracker. He felt as the other pressed deep, warm fluid spurting against his top node and his hips rocked into the sensation as his valve milked the gladiator of fluid. Megatron collapsed on top of him with a rumble and Thundercracker dropped back against the berth, unwrapping his legs to simply let them fall against the berth.

They lay like that for several, long moments and as Thundercracker’s processors cleared he was suddenly aware he didn’t know whether he should leave or stay. His trinemates had done both; how had they known?

His thoughts were interrupted by someone pounding at the door, “Lord Megatron! Soundwave says the Autobots are approaching.”

Megatron shifted off of him, pulling out with a grunt and cleaning himself off with a nearby rag. He couldn’t do anything about the blue paint scrapped on his hips but he looked as presentable as always.

“You have full use of the cleanser,” the gladiator turned towards the door where the mech had tried again. “I suggest you do so quickly. It is time the Decepticons rise against the Autobots and their Oppression; it will start here and everyone must be ready to answer my call.”

His optics flicked to Thundercracker and the blue Seeker wondered if the last sentence held the double meaning he thought it did; his answer was for both regardless, “Yes my Lord, I will be.”

“Good,” the gladiator turned, opening the door as the mech raised his fist to pound again and he gave Megatron a terrified look as the Decepticon leader curled his hand around his wrist to keep the other from hitting him then pushed him out in the hall-way, the door closing after the regal mech stepped through it.

Thundercracker forced himself from the berth, fully satisfied and found he actually looked forward to Megatron calling him back to the berth. He made an amused sound—how worried he’d been about nothing—and prepared for war.


End file.
